


I'm Falling Forever (I've Got to Break Through)

by redkislington



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Also I really don't think it's the nogistune, But it certainly likes killing things!, Buuuut whatev, Character Death, Dark Stiles, I haven't figured out what the demon is, Implied Deaths, Well see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redkislington/pseuds/redkislington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been stuck inside his head for so long, only hearing his own screams and sobs, and the sounds of death from outside. Until he hears a familiar voice trying to pull him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Falling Forever (I've Got to Break Through)

**Author's Note:**

> So.  
> I finally caught up on Teen Wolf.  
> I is sad. I apparently want to be sadder since I wrote this. 
> 
> Title is from Evanescence's Going Under.

“Stiles.”

 

Stiles sucked in a breath, head pulling up from his knees, denim soaked in tears and mud and blood, oh god, so much blood. “Derek?” His voice cracked, voice raw from misuse. He hadn't needed to talk, just scream, scream and scream and scream, watching... seeing all the terrible things he was doing. No, he... not him, that... that thing controlling him, this monster wearing his skin and his face, it was... killing people, everyone.

 

He felt sick, and he'd stopped watching, stopped screaming, his screams useless after days of it, his voice completely gone. He stopped beating his fists against the invisible wall holding him inside his own head and curled up, not wanting to watch, not wanting to see what he was doing.

 

“ _Stiles!_ ” Derek's voice echoed through him again, and he scrambled up to his feet. His stomach roiled at the though of what could be happening, of seeing it, but he crawled up to the wall anyway, and peered out through the window that creature cruelly left open for him to see.

 

Derek was... he was bleeding. He was bleeding a lot. And Stiles could feel it on his hands, all over his legs, soaking his skin hot and sticky. He swallowed and watched, watched Derek scramble back, body scared, fleeing, but his face, his voice, determined. “Stiles, listen to me!” Derek yelled, just before he was kicked out of the way, the sickening crunch of bones breaking ringing through the air. Derek gritted his teeth, pulled himself back up, spat out blood and snarled. “Stiles, this isn't you! You have to fight it, you have to-”

 

Stiles watched, in horror, as he saw his hand, tipped with silver claws, thrusting through Derek's chest. Blood so thick it looked black pooled around his wrist. But still, Derek held on, grabbed onto Stiles arm and squeezed, spoke through the blood pouring through his lips. “Stiles, I know you're still in there. You have to fight it.” The demon wearing his flesh growled, deep and unearthly, and twisted his hand, Derek gasping and sagging a little, but he held on, even as Stiles watched the little bit of light left in Derek's eyes starting to fade. “Stiles... please.”

 

“No.” Stiles whispered, and... something changed. His body froze, and the cell the creature had stuffed him into in his own head seemed to shift. He could hear something creaking, crumbling, pebbles and stones falling to the earth, clacking against each other. Stiles looked back, and saw the black walls cracked, miniature holes of light poking through. He stared for a moment, then turned back, jaw set, as he said again, louder. “No.” More cracking, he could actually hear the web like fissures breaking through the stone, creaking and crackling and rumbling around him. The demon had started growling, pulling his fist from Derek's chest, letting the werewolf slump to the ground, green-grey eyes starting up at him, just a small glimmer of light and hope left.

 

Stiles wasn't going to let that burn out. He wasn't going to let Derek down, not again.

 

He pressed his fingers into the wall holding him back, and yelled again, the sound of his voice rattling the walls around him, and his hands sunk into the wall a little, giving in under his touch just a little. He sucked in a breath, felt a spark rush through his veins, and yelled with all his might. “GET. OUT.”

 

Everything frozen for a moment, and then it felt like he was being pulled through water thicker than the blood coating his arms and feet. The prison broke apart around him, walls crumbling to dust, and he fell forward through the invisble wall holding him hostage for so long, and then he was falling more, further, until he hit the ground, the real ground, covered in leaves and twigs and dirt, mud made from blood and grime caking his hands. He shuddered, and felt... nothing. No, panic rising in his chest, no darkness could his mind, nothing.

 

He breathed in, tasting real air, and... blood. “Derek.” He lifted his head up, and rushed over to the wolf, who was actually smiling, soft and small.

 

“Hi...” Derek muttered, shifting and wincing, grunting when Stiles shoved him back down when he tried to sit up.

 

“Jesus, man, don't... don't move. God... You're... it looks like your about to fall apart, don't move.” Stiles started searching his own pockets, then cursed, realizing he lost his phone long ago, back when he'd killed Aiden...

 

“Fuck, I'm sorry. Derek, I'm sorry.”

 

“Stiles.” Derek interrupted his stream of apologies, shaking his head. “It wasn't you.”

 

Stiles looked down at Derek, blinking when he realized how blurry everything was, watching tears splatter onto the wolf's face. “But...”

 

“No.” Derek shook his head. “Don't... don't you dare blame anything that thing did on yourself. You didn't do it.” When Stiles opened his mouth to apologize again, Derek cut him off. “Stop it. I don't blame you. Okay?”

 

He waited, staring up at Stiles with that intense glare that was so familiar, he had to choke back hysterical laughter as he nodded. Derek stared for a few moments more before he nodded. “Good.” He lifted his hips slightly, digging his phone from his blood soaked pocket, and handed it up to Stiles. “Call Scott.”

 

Stiles nodded hastily, queuing the number up – trying to ignore the streaks of red that follow his thumb – and pressed it to his ear. It rang once, and there was Scott's voice, frantically yelling for Derek, and Stiles realized that... maybe it wouldn't be good for him to talk. As far as Scott knows... Stiles is still... whatever that thing was. He swallowed, and looked down at Derek. Derek who was sagging a little more into the ground and then... then he realized something else.

 

Derek wasn't healing.

 

“Scott.” Stiles forced out, and Scott's desperate ramblings cut off, an eerie silence buzzing in his ear. “Scott, it's me. I'm... the demon's gone. I...” He swallowed, the silence ringing loudly in his head. “Derek isn't healing. I... I don't know what to do.”

 

“Stiles.” Scott spoke, steady and calm, oddly so, and Stiles stiffened up. “If it's really you, you'll get up, and back away from Derek, and give him the phone.”

 

“Scott I don't think he can talk right now...”

 

“ _Stiles._ ” Scott snapped, and Stiles bit his lip, placing his hand to Derek's cheek, watching his steadily falling eyes slowly blink open, and pressed the phone into Derek's hand.

 

He got up then, and slowly backed away, another realization coming over him as he watched Derek talk, speech sluggish and eyes locked on Stiles. No one was going to trust him now. Maybe... not ever. Derek maybe but... Stiles swallowed, eyes hot, tears running unchecked down his face. The chances of Derek living right now... seemed rather slim. Because... because of him. Because he opened himself up to the darkness...

 

 _He let it in_.

 

He watched Derek until he'd disappeared from view, and then he kept moving, and he didn't stop.


End file.
